


a thing with feathers

by havisham



Series: havisham's SASO 2017 works collection [22]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 09:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: i do not go to my happy place / i go to my high lonesome placeWhen Midorima unaccountably doesn't show up for practice, it's up to Takao to find him and bring him back.





	a thing with feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017, Bonus Round 2: Tic-Tac-Toe, for [the prompt](): _Midotaka, troubled birds edition, i do not go to my happy place / i go to my high lonesome place_
> 
> I WROTE WINGFIC?! SORRY, EVERYONE. IT WAS ... A LOT OF FUN.

Technically, there was no rule against winged humans playing basketball. 

They were so rare that it wouldn't have made sense to ban them, although with the advent of the Generation of Miracles -- all strong, all talented, all _winged_ \-- there was a something of a movement to get them banned. But it hadn’t gotten traction, yet. 

Midorima usually kept his wings strapped tightly against his body, at games and practice. Takeo tried to figure out what kind of green he'd describe as the color of Midorima’s wings -- they were green, certainly, darker than his hair, with a slightly golden tips to them. He’d never seen them extended. 

He wanted to. He really did, even back in middle school, when he’d hated Midorima with all of his heart. 

“

“Oi, Takao,” said one of the seniors as Takao came into practice. “Where’s your shadow?” 

Takao’s mouth stretched into a ready laugh for _ha-ha such a good joke, senpai_ before he stopped and considered it. He usually did follow Midorima like a shadow, it was true, but he hadn’t seen him all day. He had pulled the rickshaw over to his house only to be told by Midorima’s sister that her brother had gone to school early. 

“Can I ride on it?” she asked, her eyes large and green and so much like her brother’s that Takao felt his heart quail in his chest. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said, massaging the back of his neck. “They might call the police on me the second you get in, you know.” 

She had pleaded with him, and he finally relented. He pulled her to the end of the Midorima’s street and back again. Then he went to school, wondering what had caused his Shin-chan to drastically change his routine like this. 

*

He wasn’t in the same class as Midorima and they didn’t have lunch at the same time, so Takao had been relying on seeing him at practice. But like the world that had tilted on its axis, Midorima wasn’t there. No one knew where he was. 

Miyaji ordered him to go and find him, and to tell him that the cleanup duty today rested on him alone. The captain, somewhat sheepishly, agreed. Takao, half-relieved to excused from practice too, but also bitter that he’d probably have to supervise the clean-up, went to all of Midorima’s usual haunts. 

He wasn’t at the library, or the music room. He wasn’t in one of the private reading rooms either, or at the Shogi Club headquarters. Takao contemplated the possibility that Midorima had simply gone home, in which case he was wasting his time here. 

As a last ditch effort, Takao decided to check the roof before he headed back to practice. It wasn’t really a place Midorima preferred (if he didn’t have large, green wings growing from his back, Takao would have suspected Midorima to be afraid of heights), but he knew people would ask if he’d checked there if he didn’t go. 

*

The sun had been beating down steadily all day, and despite the brisk breeze, the roof was almost unbearably hot and white. Takao blinked, startled, and wondered if he was hallucinating. But the figure of Midorima, straps gone and his wings extended, was still there. His lucky item for the day -- a ¼ scale model of a sail-boat -- rested on its side next to him. 

Takao made an involuntary noise at the back of his throat and Midorima’s face snapped toward him, fury in his eyes. The air was filled with green-gold feathers. 

_Oh no_ , Takao thought. _He’s molting._

*

“It happens every six months or so,” Midorima told him, once Takao had come back with some cold drinks from the vending machine to appease him. “I usually stay home for a few days. But today I had a test that I couldn’t miss.” 

“Ah, Shin-chan, you didn’t have to keep it a secret though -- we would’ve understood,” Takao said weakly. 

Midorima stared at him. “You don’t think it’s disgusting? Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not! I think it’s -- beautiful. You’re like the world’s most lovely pigeon, Shin-chan.” 

Midorima snorted sharply and pushed his glasses back. “Idiot.” 

“Does it … hurt?” Takao gestured to Midorima’s wings, which were folded decorously behind him. They had lost some of their usual, sleek appearance and Takao was dying to -- really dying to, touch them. He suspected that this was a once-in-a-lifetime (or at least once-in-six-months) opportunity, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to touch them. “Can I help?” 

Midorima continued to stare at him. Takao wasn’t even sure if he was blinking, at this point. 

“Why,” Midorima said at last. 

Takao sighed. “Because you didn’t even answer me when I asked if it hurt, so it probably does. Let me help, Shin-chan. Isn’t that what partners are for?” 

“This has nothing to do with basketball,” Midorima said stiffly. 

“But if you’re not comfortable, you won’t be able to play your best. And besides, Miyaji's going to make you do all of the clean-up today, so we should go soon.” 

Midorima moved with an offended flutter and presented Takao with the long, elegant line of his back. Takao was temporarily stunned into silence. 

But he recovered soon enough. 

“Shin-chan,” Takao said reverently, picking out loose feathers from Midorima’s wings. “Do you think you can fly me home today?” 

“You’re too heavy.” 

“How mean!” Takao said, laughing. “I pull you on a rickshaw all the time. Your wings aren’t strong enough to carry an average sized teenage boy?” 

“I’m not saying they’re not strong enough,” Midorima said, “I just don’t want to.” 

“That’s even worse! How ungrateful, Shin-chan!” 

But Midorima was smiling at him, and Takao smiled back, happy.


End file.
